


FebuWhump2021 Day 11: Hallucinations

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: FebuWhump2021 [11]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Caretaking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, bad trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader looks after Klaus as he takes a bad trip.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Reader
Series: FebuWhump2021 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156145
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	FebuWhump2021 Day 11: Hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

> This imagine uses the same reader from my fic _[Promise I Won't Peek](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893809)_ but you don't have to have read it for this oneshot

He smashed your lamp against the wall, glass shattering as the rest of your electrics blew. In the dark, Klaus only became more frantic. He leapt up onto your table and grabbed a chair, waving it in front of him like a shield. “Keep back!”

Flush against the door, you dropped your keys in the bowl and held your hands up in the air. “Okay. Alright. I’ll stay right here.”

Convinced he wouldn’t try and attack you – not that he ever would – you scanned the room for any sign of what he had taken. It wasn’t unusual to come home and find Klaus stretched out on your sofa, in your favourite bra, waxing lyrical poetry to the shadows on the ceiling. Other times, you’d find him crouched in front of the fridge, staring at the half eaten contents like they were a gift from the gods.

Sometimes you wished that you could come home from work to an empty apartment rather than finding Klaus on his back serenading the courgettes but you knew it was better he got high here than in the streets where anything could happen. Your stomach twisted as you thought back to the times you’d found him curled up, bruised and beaten in an alleyway, vomit on his shoes, blood in his hair, a haunted look in his eyes. No. Being able to watch over him and know he was safe was so much more important than coming back to a peaceful home.

This behaviour, though… This was unlike anything you’d seen from Klaus. His pink satin shirt was drenched with sweat. One of his prized Louboutin heels was in the sink, filled with milk. More concerning was the rabid look in his eyes, like a rabbit being hunted, a terrified creature aware of its imminent death.

“No!” Klaus suddenly leapt off the table and hid behind the curtain. He wrapped the fabric around his shoulders, peaked out through a thin slit then disappeared inside his cocoon again. Overhead, the wooden rail which held your curtains creaked dangerously. It wouldn’t survive much more of his tugging.

You crossed the room at a painfully slow pace until you reached Klaus beneath the window. Keeping enough distance to keep you from being whacked by flailing limbs, you asked gently, “Klaus? Can you hear me?”

He ripped the curtain, peering through the torn fabric. “You should run,” he whispered. “Don’t let it take you.”

“What is it? What’s coming for you?”

“Death.” Klaus disappeared back into the safety of his curtain, leaving you more concerned than before.

It wasn’t that you believed Death was actually coming for him. It wasn’t that you thought he might accidentally hurt you while fighting of a hallucination. No, you were terrified for him. You’d seen him at his lowest as the spirits clawed at his arms, whispered vicious things in his ears, but you’d never seen him this scared. He was one scare away from a complete mental break and you weren’t sure that you’d be able to bring him back from the edge of this.

Doubting yourself wouldn’t help him, though, so you took a long, deep breath and focused on the Klaus shaped blob in your curtains. Nice and slowly, you said, “It’s gonna be alright, Klaus. I’m here for you, okay? I’ll keep you safe. I’m just going to clear up the broken glass. I’ll be right back.”

A hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. “Don’t go.”

You didn’t. You stayed there, legs curled beneath you, against the hard kitchen counter for the next hour or so. Klaus didn’t move once in that entire time. When his gentle snores broke the silence, you took the chance to creep up and start tidying. The mess didn’t bother you, not really, but the last thing you wanted was him to hurt himself on a piece of broken bulb while fighting the imaginary shadow of Death.

It only took a few minutes. However, in that time, Klaus woke from his nap and had disappeared. The windows were still shut and the door locked so he had to be in the apartment somewhere. Your first guess was the bathroom. He loved your bath – too much, if you were being honest; not to say that you didn’t enjoy sharing baths with him, quite the contrary.

When you didn’t find him in there, you checked both your bedroom (no sign of him) and the guest room (also no sign of him). That left one place: the storage cupboard. Why weren’t you surprised?

Inside, you found Klaus curled around a tall pile of kitchen roll. He clung to it like a panda and a damp patch suggested that he’d tried to eat some, too. From your pocket, you pulled a slightly squashed chocolate bar and offered it up. “Fancy a Mars bar?”

He flashed you a wicked grin then devoured the entire chocolate bar in a single breath. Nodding, unsurprised but a little disgusted, you took a seat in the hallway and smiled back. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m moisturising with a baby chimp’s bottom,” he replied, rubbing a roll of kitchen roll over his face. He tossed it aside and leaned forward, eyes wide. “Have you got another?”

You took the next roll off his neat pyramid and handed it over, feeling soft all over (and not because of any baby monkey bottoms). “Here. Try this one.”

Klaus repeated the action, grinning wildly the entire time. But by the fifth time, something changed. He started to shake, slowly at first, just in his fingertips, but soon with his whole body. He pointed over your shoulder, hissing and shouting at a dark shadow you couldn’t see. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the utility cupboard. Then he slammed the door shut and started rocking in the tight space. “Leave us alone!”

“It’s okay,” you breathed, handing over a roll of paper for him to cuddle. “You’re safe in here. I’ve got you, Klaus.”

The kitchen roll bounced off the wall as Klaus tossed it aside, his words becoming more indecipherable with each passing second. You recognised a little bit of Latin, a few hints of… what was that? Yiddish? But then his prayers – for that’s all they could be, desperate and pleading – became entirely indistinguishable from the rest of his incoherent noises. It broke your heart.

“Hey, hey,” you whispered, catching Klaus’s face between your hands.

He flinched at the touch and you immediately drew back. The terror in his eyes would haunt you for years to come. But then a wave of clarity rolled over him, a gift to you both. He still shook in terror, tears rolling down his cheeks and mumbled prayers falling constantly from his lips, but Klaus reached for your hands and lifted them back to his cheeks.

“I’ve got you, Klaus. I’m here.”

Trapped inside his mind, Klaus didn’t respond – couldn’t respond – but you knew he’d heard you. Above all the panic and painful cries, he’d heard your promise. You tried to wipe away some of the eyeliner that ran down his face but only succeeded in smudging it worse. In any other circumstances, it might have been funny. Not tonight, though.

“Klaus. Look at me. Just look at me until it goes away. I’m right here.”

He squeezed your hand and tentatively accepted the soft roll of paper you offered. He clung to it like a teddy bear, his eyes never leaving yours until morning finally came.


End file.
